Colonel Mustang has a, um, lust problem and has to deal with this... issue? All the while trying to save the Lieutenant. But of course, it's not fit without revenge... This story takes a look at a different way the Homunculi could have addressed the Mustang situation (keeping watch though the Hawk's eyes). Royai. Includes lemons.

AN: I have so many stories that I am working on, but this one is for the shits and giggles. I am sure this has been done before, but I have not seen it. So here!

Timeline: Manga/2009 (one joke relating to 2003). Toward the end of Brotherhood, which means Lust is dead. Greed is within Ling, and chaos.

My changes to fit the scenario: (I rarely do this) Roy Mustang's team is not split up, they have an office in Central similar to the one in East City. Wheel chair riding Havoc is still working within the military. Okay so here it goes.

Warnings: Provocativeness.

EDIT: So, it seems that there are a lot of people that have checked into the idea. I have fixed the chapter up and am now taking it a bit more seriously. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: She returns

"Sir?"

"The country is run by Homunculi, a serial killer has not been caught, and the normal has become controversial and unorthodox. So… I would feel infinitely better if we came to a mutual consensus, that it is beneficial that I escort you back to your residence."

At first, Riza Hawkeye second guessed her hearing, but as always, she had heard correctly.

We all know this fully capable, quick witted, armed soldier, with eyes like a bird of prey, gave little worry to others, regarding her safety. With everything going on, it was a little shock; to think she could simply enjoy his company…it had been a long while.

In making the Colonel, Roy Mustang, repeat his intentions, incidentally stirred more nervousness (which he tried to vale behind those many words). It was cute and made the lovely blonde want to ruffle his hair, as the simple, Riza had done in their teens. She could execute the idea, it was within arm's reach, but their world had vastly changed since those times. That action would be unprofessional, though endearing.

They strolled, with no hurry in their step, to reach their destination. Unbeknown to the Colonel, those chestnut colored eyes threw over a thoughtful glance, to absorb whatever she could of the man who held her heart.

Whether the handsome aspirating leader's explanation of his actions was the truth or if he was using it all as an excuse to spend time with her, it did not matter. Either answer quietly warmed her heart. Examples like this, reminded the other that it was not some sort of happenstance, the feelings were mutual. The small things, all the little extras and tid-bits, the careful choice of vocabulary, not to mention the communication shared without the need of a spoken language, fed the kindling fire between the two.

It was only a matter of time. Waiting is all they could do, for that right moment where they could start sharing that truth together.

Mustang ever so slightly brushed his arm against hers. "How has Hayate been?" The blonde had to hide a smile. He wished they could hold hands.

"Happy, sir."

With only his eyes, the Colonel glanced over, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You still leave him with your elderly neighbor?"

"Yes. At times, to keep each other company."

"You could bring him over to the office more if you like."

They passed underneath a street light while crossing the street. The night was silent except for the sound of their boots against pavement.

Mustang started to say, "You didn't need to stay so late with me at the office. Thank-" but was cut off, "Sir, there is no need for thanks. It is an honor and pleasure to serve with you."

With a humble grin, the Colonel nodded. "And I you."

"If it was due to procrastination, then this walk would be much different." Roy scratched the back of his head; he could not deny his procrastination problems. Hey the first step was admitting to the problem… Thankfully it was not due that. It was due to the strange reports out of Ishval. He wanted to read them all before heading home.

The rest of the way, their exhausted minds and bodies wished for the same thing: to simply fall asleep in each other's arms. But that could not happen, not tonight.

Father was sitting, bemused within the conversation.

Envy, the rebellious yet strangely reliable child, acted like Envy always does: as the devil's advocate. Be it as it may, it was amusing to watch the dramatics Envy produced, against Father's the ideas, rolling the eyes, "Like that worked last time." Cough. "Greed." Cough. "Wrath."

Peering down from his thrown, the calm old man shrugged his shoulders, resting his head on his knuckles. "I would say Wrath as quite the success."

"Spoiled brat." Envy was not amused.

"As with anything, trial and error. Wrath would have a good sense of who to pick, seeing how he went through the process." Knowing how to tug the right strings on his child, Father pressed, "And I thought you like messing with humans."

"I never implied that I didn't. After all these years, it's what keeps me entertained. If it weren't for their stupidity, I would have gone insane by now." Of course that is all a matter of prospective.

Father straightened up, "Then do as I say, Envy." Waving his hand around in the air, Father reached over for a book. "Have a fun time with it, you know the rules."

Envy sighed in defeat. While walking though the sewers, a joyous plan filled Envy with excitement; that grin spread across, ear to ear.

The clatter of Havoc's fountain as it fell to the desk. "Late?! What with her period?! You're going to have a baby?!"

The onyx eyes narrowed, the group tried to stifle their chuckles. Mustang had to admit he waltzed into that.

The staunch denial of the accusation, "When the hell do I have the time to-" was ignored, as Breda added a side note, "Man, I forgot she got that woman thing."

Fuery nodded, "I have always seen Lt. Hawkeye as a kick ass soldier. She never whines or complains."

"I don't recall any PMS," Havoc agreed. "It's amazing how professional she is. Though, it's clear someone sees more under her uniform," glancing over at the Colonel. The concern was clear on the commander's face thus Havoc offered up another hypothesis as to why the punctual was fashionably late, by a mere (checking the time) three minutes. "Well, maybe the opposite is true. Hawkeye started to leave the house and-" Jean threw up jazz hands, "SURPRISE! Aunt Flow came to visit and she had to change her garments or something?"

After the slight amusement, the office grew silent with worry hanging over head. When was the last time Hawkeye was late to work? Never.

The Flame Alchemist tried to phone her with no answer, the commander was on his feet. "Breda, let's go."

In the hallway of the apartment complex, Mustang rapped his knuckled on the door. Breda acknowledged, "She's a really modest person to be living in this place." With no answer, Mustang knocked again, "Lieutenant? It's Lieutenant Breda and I. Could you please let us in?"

Still no answer. Quickly evaluating the situation, the investigation's specialist examined the door. There were no signs of forced entry. Lifting his weapon from its holster, Breda nodded to the Colonel.

The alchemic glove turned the door knob and was quite shocked to find it unlocked. Stepping inside the dark room, his ears immediately picked up running water. With the flick of the wrist, the light was on, and the sight of Hayate limping over to him. Breda took his arm and forced the door to open wider, weapon still up and at the ready.

The signaled command to lie down, the furry friend quickly obliged Mustang. Whimpering in pain, the dog eased himself into a comfortable position.

The small room had a square breakfast table; a chair was on its side. The small kitchen at the back wall was untouched. Quickly they both stacked the door to her bedroom. Breda tapped the Flame's shoulder, ready. With one swift move the door flung open, slamming against the wall. The place was clear of any persons, but there were clear indications of a struggle. The mattress was halfway off the bed; Hawkeye's military jacket was dangling off the side, dents in the wall, with scuff marks on the floor.

Breda was already back in the other room calling the others, while Mustang continued, half unbelieving the other half trying to understand what had happened. The running water was coming from the bathroom sink; a toothbrush with paste was on the floor and a boot kit still open on the dresser.

Picturing as if it were a movie: The Lieutenant was up and getting ready for the day. She had already changed, leaving her military jacket off to prevent toothpaste splatter. The boot kit already out, to complete the last little touch before leaving the premises.

A trace of toothpaste on the sink's ledge indicated Riza placed the toothbrush down to answer the door. Opening her home to someone she trusted, as per the non-forced entry.

Hawkeye continued her morning rituals, nothing but an emergency could hinder her mission to be on time. The struggle began in the bathroom, continuing into the bedroom.

Turning on his heal, Roy spotted the glint of metal. Hawkeye's weapon was across the floor, the weapon's safety was off, even though it was on her, she wasn't fast enough. That was the biggest indicator, the weapon's specialist not fast enough to draw her weapon?

When the Colonel walked back into the main room, distort and livid, he looked to Breda. The only logical correlation, Bradley was reminding the Flame Alchemist how vulnerable he really was.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!"

Extremely drowsy with a splitting headache, delirious and nauseous, Riza wanted was to be left alone.

Al had warned them of this homunculus, it was her own fault she let her guard down. Complacency…

The voice of the Colonel rang in her ear, "ON YOUR FEET!" Her eyes snapped opened and jerked automatically to the command. Trapped down to a medical bed, wrists, ankles, and three other bands wrapped around her, holding her legs down, hips, and shoulders. Her black military issued t-shirt was replaced by the white dress blouse. Looking down, her boots were still on… what the hell was going on?

A red glow and electric sparks around the homunculi's neck, returned Envy's vocals to its normal tone, "That got you. Come on, I need you awake for this."

Another person came forth from the shadows; Riza's eyes were ineffectively hiding her shock. The Führer stood at the end of the bed, hands behind his back with a pained, almost sympathetic, look on his face.

An old man, with long blond hair, beard and mustache, also walked forward and looked down at the Lieutenant. "Will you accept my child?" Holding up a large syringe, he smiled. "I hope you two can be good friends. I had to go through some trouble to get her back."

Hawkeye struggled vainly, watching in horror as the needle struck her vein. It wiggled and moved on its own accorded, up her arm and through her chest exploding throughout body, worse than fire or electrocution. There are no words to describe the pain.

The body seized, eyes rolled to the back of the head, while the spine arched and convulsed. The screams, they did nothing to release the pain, not that Riza could even attempt to hold them back. All music to Envy's ears.

Shuttering, twisting, contorting, and pulling against the restraints, would it not end? There were tiny spurts of blood, staining the white material, as the body deconstructed and reconstructed, trying to reject the intrusion. Was death the only means of escape?

It can't end now… he needs me… it can't end now…I WILL NOT DIE.

At once it was over. Oddly, Riza was shaky yet feeling renewed.

It's been awhile. I thought you had given up... the autumn eyes darted around the room, only to conclude that the origin of the voice was not out there, but...

"It seems you were correct Wrath, persistent and strong willed. A very good candidate indeed! You were number twelve, this happened on the first."

Father unfastened the top two buttons of the blouse, revealing the Ouroboros tattoo on the chest. Other then the new tattoo, Lieutenant Hawkeye was physically unchanged. The elder's smile was warm and genuine as he began to unstrap the beautiful blonde. "Welcome back, Lust."

For a moment, the quivering chestnut eyes became dull and lifeless, but then they narrowed and shot back with victorious vigor. "Why thank you, Father."

The case did not go far, closed with the Führer's stamp. No more speculation would be had. The big cats knew where Lt. Hawkeye was, and they were effectively getting at the normally level headed Colonel. First they took Hughes… now Hawkeye.

No leads, no ideas, nothing. Only the worst came to mind. The Colonel could only dream of sleep.

It has been a week and one day since his secret admirer's disappearance, and on this Friday, the Flame could be found near the red light district. Heading toward Madame Christmas' pub, in civilian clothing, to meet with Jean Havoc, hoping something had turned up.

He halted. There was a shifting and rattling going on in the alleyway to his right. He hated men who played that dirty. What a perfect outlet to release his rage.

Turning into the dark corridor, the glossy shoes stepped over a bag of trash. Fingers poised at the ready, he continued down to see the moon light reflect off a little white kitten who was minding its own business rummaging through the trash.

Sighing, the incognito Colonel pinched the bridge of his nose. The exhaustion was making his mind stray. Like the kitten, stray, ha. The fatigued voice spoke to no one, "Who am I again, Al?" He snorted at his own delusional joke; damn he needed a good drink.

Turning back around to leave, the silhouette of a soldier stopped him in his tracks. When?

The white blouse illuminate from the faint light blue hue cast from the moon. It had slight dark blotches in places. It was lose around the neck and body, and a glint came off the metal of the belt. This person was clearly a woman as she stood with her arms crossed.

The Flame Alchemist's arm flung out, she may look like Hawkeye, but whoever it was did not do their homework with the state of that uniform.

A pointer finger went up, shifting side to side, tsk, tsk, tsk. The voice was Hawkeyes, "Silly man, I wouldn't do that if I were you. I'm not Envy. You burn me, you burn her."

That drawl… Mustang's eyes were narrow, trying to figure it out. The figure of Hawkeye was closing the distance with carefully placed footsteps, that's not her walk. Lust?

Granted you really had to look for the distort confusion on the Colonel's continence. A good actor was he. The Homunculus taunted, "Is this not the reunion you were expecting? You've been searching everywhere for your little bitch." Holding her arms out, this woman continued, "And here she is."

With a quick swift move, Mustang was pinned against the brick. This Hawkeye's hands pressed on his waist, the body half grinding against his. The strong commander didn't look down or show any signs of reaction, keeping a steady determined gaze. Oh but he couldn't help but wish this was really Hawkeye...

Mustang was starting to really hate how much his assumptions were right. Through his peripheral vision, there was a clearly defined Ourobouros tattoo on the soft skin.

"What? You don't like this body I have now? That's not true… But you're not even looking at the goods." Lust pushed Hawkeye's breasts up against his chest, showing more cleavage. "Didn't you dream of touching these melon's again?" She licked her lips, "Eating some most muffins? Or maybe feeling the Hawk's talons," Roy could feel an unnaturally strong hold on his ass, the lower regions pressed against each other, "gripping onto your skin. Hmm... Roy..."

A grin, a kind never before seen on Hawkeye's face, was brought close to Mustang's ear, "And that is why, I am going to make you suffer. You will feel that heat… that burn…" Slowly pulling away, Lust withdrew her hands, snaking them up to his chest, patting. "What an honest man you are. I have to give you credit."

An eerily calm came over Mustang's voice, one that Hawkeye could definitely have read as beyond anger, "What did you do to her?"

"She's here. Think of it as, how did Envy put it… a mental illness of sorts. Like Greed. Oh I'll let her out though; your precious Hawkeye still has to exist. But I will still be there, watching you. My job is to make sure nothing happens to our precious sacrifice." The devious woman pat him on the check. "Now, let's go for a drink."

Trying to hide any emotion, livid that they were using Hawkeye like this, they walked to the entrance of the ally way were Jean almost rolled past while looking for the Colonel.

Catching sight of someone, Jean stared unblinkingly up at Hawkeye. The cigarette fell from his mouth and started to burn a hole in his slacks.

Her shirt loose and hastily tucked in her pants, some old blood splatters, cleavage exposed. Havoc was stunned to silence at what this looked like and the Colonel emerged behind her. What the fuck…

"I am shocked to see you alive. What a stubborn bunch…" Lust leaned over, provocatively, picking up the lit stick from his lap. The dirty blonde's eyes move to the tattoo, lifting his eyes back up, "Hawkeye" who took a drag of his cig and placed it back in his gapped mouth. The wisps of smoke poured out when she said, "I've missed you…" Lust straightened her back, crossing her arms accentuating her bosom. "Poor poor Jean. It is as though you passed through the gate. The very thing you would miss the most… you can't feel… how sad. At least I have the Colonel to keep me… entertained."

Lust walked ahead, and Mustang back-handed Havoc on the back of his head. "That's for looking to long."

To Be Continued...

Next Chapter: Roy has a new roommate, Riza returns to work,and all is fare in love and ... sexual tension.

Chapter 2: Side Effects

AN: AH, boy... what could possibly happen?!

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